


On leave

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [34]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DWMP verse, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ecthelion is having a hard time sleeping in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On leave

**Author's Note:**

> 0\. I got a request for some fluffy dwmp!Glorfindel/Ecthelion, and this was the result.

“Glorfindel.”

“Hrm. Yes?”

“Are you awake?”

“Um. I don’t think so? Because it is,” Glorfindel fumbled to locate his own wrist and squinted blearily at the glowing display of his watch, “because it is 4:45 am and I am not usually awake at 4:45 am.”

“Sorry.” Ecthelion’s breath was warm on the back of Glorfindel’s neck, and Glorfindel wriggled a little to feel the tickle. Ecthelion laid his lips to Glorfindel’s nape, and Glorfindel stilled. “I thought it must be later.”

“You’re on leave,” said Glorfindel sleepily. “Indulge yourself, sleep in ‘til like six, at least.”

“Okay.” Ecthelion fell quiet, and Glorfindel wriggled again, pulled Ecthelion’s arm more snugly around his waist, and closed his eyes.

But it wasn’t long until, “Glorfindel?”

Glorfindel sighed.

“I don’t think I can sleep in that late,” Ecthelion whispered. “I used to be able to sleep until 7:30 or even eight on weekends, but now…”

“I used to think I was so lucky to find another morning person,” mumbled Glorfindel. “But this is pushing it a little.”

“Sorry. Do you want to go for a run?”

“Mrgh.” Glorfindel locked his ankles around Ecthelion’s legs to hold him in place. “Could you give me at least an hour before the exuberant physicality kicks in?”

“Okay.” Ecthelion was quiet again, pressing closer to Glorfindel’s back, and soon Glorfindel could sense another aspect of Ecthelion’s exuberant physicality against the small of his back.

“It’s a little early for that too, I’m afraid.”

“No, I wasn’t suggesting – ” Ecthelion sounded embarrassed. “It just gets like that in mornings, regardless of what I would tell it otherwise.”

Glorfindel chuckled, his eyes still closed. “All aspects of your internal alarm system are ignoring your imperatives this morning, huh?”

“Apparently.” Ecthelion sighed and laid an absent kiss to Glorfindel’s shoulder. His lips moved over the skin in a pleasant, non-urgent way, and Glorfindel was starting to relax again when Ecthelion said, “What’s this scar? Here on your shoulder?”

“Rugby,” said Glorfindel.

“Oh.” Ecthelion’s fingers had joined his lips, and were tracing over the curve of Glorfindel’s shoulder to his bicep, and then over to his pectoral. “And this one, here, on your collarbone?”

“Rugby.”

Ecthelion was quiet a moment as he nosed into Glorfindel’s hair, and Glorfindel only twitched when he felt Ecthelion’s lips close around the lobe of his ear. “I just noticed your ears don’t match,” Ecthelion whispered, making Glorfindel shiver. “This one has kind of a tattered bit.”

“Let’s just assume,” said Glorfindel, “in the interest of time, that literally any evidence of injury on my body is from rugby.”

Ecthelion made a displeased sound. “It’s a horribly dangerous sport.”

Glorfindel opened his eyes and squinted into the gray light of the room. “Thel, you’re a Marine. And you’re telling me what _I_ do is dangerous?”

“Yes! At least they give us guns. You’re not allowed to shoot the people trying to kill you.”

“No, but I can do pretty much anything else.” Glorfindel rolled over on top of Ecthelion and pinned him down. “Listen, I used to think there was nothing you were bad at, but – ”

Ecthelion gazed up at him, his fingers flexing slightly under Glorfindel’s hands, but otherwise holding still. “But?”

“You are fucking awful at vacations.” Glorfindel pressed down a little, settling between Ecthelion’s thighs. Ecthelion still held still, but his exuberance of earlier grew a little more so against Glorfindel’s groin.

“A vacation doesn’t have to mean lots of sleeping,” said Ecthelion reasonably.

“Nor does it have to mean letting _me_ sleep, apparently.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” said Glorfindel, and leaned down to kiss him. He kissed him until Ecthelion was breathing heavily beneath him, his wrists straining at Glorfindel’s hands where they were pressed against the mattress, his hips arching up to meet Glorfindel’s. Then Glorfindel pulled back, and Ecthelion let out a small noise, almost a whimper, that made Glorfindel grin.

“Glorfindel…”

“Guess what?” Glorfindel swung off him and rolled to the edge of the bed as Ecthelion gasped and grabbed for him. “I think I’m ready to go for that run now.”


End file.
